Page 82 of Anathema

“Come now, Dolion. What are you? Four-hundred? Five?”

Surely, it couldn’t have been age that they were discussing.

Hands clasped in front of him, he bowed. “Six-hundred-thirty. But thank you for the compliment.”

“You’re six-hundred-thirty years old.” I couldn’t hide the air of disbelief coloring my tone.

“Give, or take, yes.”

“How?”

Brows raised, he shrugged. “Well, I’d like to think that I take good care of myself. For the most part. I do like a bit of mors mead, which is … punishing, I’m afraid. And ale. Can’t seem to give up the ale.”

“No. I mean how is it possible? We’re lucky to live until the age of eighty, where I’m from.”

“Eighty?” Rykaia snorted. “That’s practically infantile.”

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Two-hundred-six.”

Two-hundred-six? The girl looked like she couldn’t have been much older than me. “You … definitely do not look two-hundred-six years old.”

“Ah, gods bless. You are a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m no expert on the matter, a scholar would be much more informational, but as I understand, time moves a bit differently here than in Mortasia.”

I sopped up some of the broth with a piece of bread and popped it into my mouth. “I thought you were a prisoner, as well?”

“Yes, well, I suppose, technically, I am. You’re actually not a prisoner, Miss …” His brows kicked up as if he wanted me to answer.

“Maevyth.”

“Maevyth. And might I say, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

“If I’m no prisoner, then you’ll let me go?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. It’s complicated. Perhaps a bit overwhelming, if I tried to explain it all at once.” Hands behind his back, he paced outside my cell. “I’m sure this is all very new and confusing.”

“It’s frustrating.” I soaked up another bite of stew to stifle the anger stirring inside of me all over again. “Someone I care about is in grave danger as we speak.”

“Her sister,” Rykaia supplied, to which Dolion gave a sympathetic nod that pinched to a pensive expression.

“You’ve a sister?”

“Yes. Step-sister, but we may as well be blood. We tried to cross through an archway in the woods. I made it through, but …” The quiver in my voice warned me to stop before I broke into tears. “She didn’t.”

“She attempted to step through?” he asked.

“No. She never had the chance.”

Dolion huffed and lowered his gaze. “If it’s any comfort to you, had she tried, she’d have fallen to her death in the great chasm.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I made it through just fine.”

“Her blood isn’t your blood.” Inhaling deeply, he frowned and paced again. “I can respect and sympathize with your worry, miss. But you are here, at Castle Eidolon, because you happen to be in grave danger yourself.” Dolion cleared his throat and held up a finger, when I shot him a frown at his words. “If you’ll excuse me one moment.”

“Wait. How am I in danger?”

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